


hush

by alezander



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: College, Daddy Han Jumin, Does Jumin Han Is Gay?, Falling In Love, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Jumin x Male OC, M/M, Masturbation in Bathroom, POV Male Character, Possessive Han Jumin, Prostitution, Sharing a Bed, Silence Kink, Yandere Han Jumin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 22:34:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21216140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alezander/pseuds/alezander
Summary: His deep, low voice is hypnotic as he murmurs, his breath a feather in my ear. I could never get used to this arrangement. Yet without realizing it, I was already looking forward to the next time I was to see him.





	hush

He buys me. The me who is a commodity. Twice a week, Tuesdays and Fridays. Always for six hours. Overnight stays at the top floor of the most expensive hotel in the city. An absurdly elegant dinner by his personal chef to start. I thought it was odd at first. A customer so courteous and so polite, although he hardly talks. Someone who had so much fortune he barely had to touch money anymore. A portion of his raven colored fringe covers his forehead, down to his right eye, right above his chiseled cheek bone. I can never really guess what he is thinking, but it is safe to say that I do have come to identify some of his mannerisms and movement cues. A slight tightening of his upper lip meant he is disgusted or uncomfortable. A twitch of his right knee inwards means he is feeling impatient.

And when his eyes narrow to captivating, seductive slits, I...

Sometimes I wonder who exactly is being paid here. After we eat, we usually drive to a hotel where he leaves me to walk freely in the room for about two hours, before telling me to take a bath, sit on the bed and go to sleep. The first time we met, I refused and restated the terms of the services my agency provided. The safety of the products, meaning myself, might be compromised if made to sleep overnight with a customer. He fixed this simply by getting into bed and falling asleep as well. I found it unbelievable then as I stared at his finely lined face, his features relaxed and his necktie loosened. The next thing I knew, I was lying down too, not even thinking of leaving as I watched his chest rise and fall steadily before falling into unconsciousness.

He does not wake me in the mornings when he leaves, but he makes sure to touch my shoulder. His deep, low voice is hypnotic as he murmurs a "thank you" and "rest well", his breath a feather in my ear. I could never get used to this arrangement, and yet I was already looking forward to the next time I was to see him without realizing it. The _Danna_, they called him. My coworkers either teased me or envied me for his attention. But other things filled my mind. I wanted to know his intentions for always buying me without using me.

When I am with other men, I often misbehave. Just about any shameless thing in the book to get my pay. I cannot do the same to him. When we are together, I am drawn to his silent demeanor, and I become quiet myself. He can do nothing for hours. I stare at him and I feel a burst of heat when he catches me watching him. Silly, I feel like a teenager with a crush.

Once a different customer paid extra and since I needed cash badly, I let him take me to his house. Stupid. He was a big, burly man and despite the alcohol he consumed earlier, my hands were tied easily. A polished stick was passed under my knees and tied to my legs. I could not move, and although he did not hit me and the sex was not painful, I could not deny that I was scared. There were bruises on my wrists where the ropes bit into and my body ached even with the slightest movement. It was probably my fault for being careless, but the feeling of vulnerability remained.

I could not even look _him_ in the eye the next night. It must have been obvious. The long sleeved shirt I wore was too big for me, a sign that the clothes were not mine and that they were not what I was used to wearing. I did not want him to see my bruises. Even though he was a customer, I did not want to feel like just another commodity while I was with him. I wanted my relationship with him to be special, unlike my other men. To my surprise, he joined me in the bath that night. It started out like always. Dinner, the drive to the hotel. The silence. Yet when he gave the order to take a bath, he told me to strip right in front of him. I thought I misheard him, but there was no mistake.

For the first time, I felt embarrassment in the presence of a customer. Standing naked in front of this man made me shiver. I dared myself to return his fixed gaze but found that I could not. I was not used to this treatment from him. With a sigh, he stood and motioned for me to come closer. My blood thrummed in my veins. Was this it? Half a year of platonic skin ship and sleeping beside each other led me to think that perhaps he was simply just not interested in me that way. Maybe he was just a lonely person who needed someone to share a bed with. An unexpected wave of pain hit me in the face. This change in our conduct, was it possible that he was ending this? I can not meet him anymore?

His fingers were warm when they took hold of my hand, leading it to his necktie. He gave no further instructions, but I knew I was supposed to loosen it. I _wanted_ to. My mouth felt cotton dry and when I tilted my head back to look at him, he was closing his eyes. I was confused, but somehow I knew what to do next. My fingers shook as I unbuttoned his striped shirt, the fabric of it thin and smooth, unveiling a little bit more of his toned body as my hands glided down. I bit my lip. My head throbbed. The strongest sense of desire I've ever felt in my whole life surged in me and my body grew hot. I untucked and pushed his clothes off his shoulders. And the more I saw, the more I wanted to see my nails digging into his firm chest, his muscled back, his veined forearms.

_What am I thinking?_

By the time he opened his eyes, I was too aroused to care that he could see my erection taut against my stomach. Out of breath and red in the face, I let my longing show clearly in my eyes as I stared back. His eyes narrowed as he took hold of my wrist and led me to the bath. _This is it_. Truly, this is the last time I might see him. His touch was so warm and so careful. I could hardly feel the light wound left by the ropes. I wanted to speak, to ask for some form of validity of what we were doing, but my voice did not cooperate. Again I found myself drawn into the web of serene silence he had spun.

In the bath he ordered me to wash myself and I did, making sure to show him how thorough I was in cleaning my butt. I planned to do it playfully, sensually, just like how I do with others. I could not, not when he was standing by the door so silently, watching me intently. While the tub was being filled, I washed myself. I turned to look at him and found that he had discarded his pants and was left with his boxers. _God_. I turned away, desperate for some relief. My hand ghosted over my hard on, my entire body buzzing. I wanted, no, _needed_ to get off. It was too much.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when he dumped a bucket's worth of water on me. Startled, I turn around and saw that he had finished washing himself and was climbing into the tub. His handsome features were exemplified by the water, and his dark, luscious hair was pushed back, exposing his right eye. I knew my feelings were foolish, but I could not control the way my heart skipped a few beats as he gestured for me to follow him in. Even the way he cocked his head appeared graceful to me. Without another thought, I climbed after him, pausing for a moment as I wondered if I should sit with my back against his chest or...

"Come here."

He said with a gentle tug on my arm and soon his warmth was flush against my back. I felt hypersensitive and numb at the same time, if such a thing is possible. This was the most amount of body contact he has ever given me and I felt very strange. I could feel the rumble of his powerful chest as he hummed and sighed. His arms did not embrace me, but they were there, an invisible cage holding me against him. Maybe it was because of the water that my face grew too hot to hide the blush that I was sure had covered my entire face down to my neck and up to the tips of my ears. I was as nervous as much as I was excited. Taking the initiative did not even occur to me as I waited, wondering what he would do next. I had known for a while then that this man could sweep me off my feet with his pace and that I would gladly let him. By choice, I had allowed myself to be at his mercy.

But he was excruciatingly slow. We merely soaked for a quarter of an hour until I realized that there did not have to be anything to happen. _I should cherish this_, I thought. Just being next to him, so close and so raw like this. I let my weight sink on him as I leaned back. My heart pounded in my chest and I was sure he could hear it, feel it. I turned my head to face him and I was not even surprised to see that he had closed his eyes again. He often does this. I did not mind. Tracing the outline of his nose, his eyebrows and his lips was easier this way.

_Who are you?_

I wanted to ask, but my throat was clamped shut. Nothing in the world deserved to disturb the peace and serenity of this moment. Even the occasional drip of water from the faucet seemed ashamed to make a sound. Then slowly, as if the clearing of clouds on a rainy day, his eyelids fluttered open and all at once he was staring back at me. His gaze was of melted obsidian, penetrating and mesmerizing. Like the pure night sky without the stars. I vaguely noticed my breath leaving me. His hold tightened and his hands travelled down my arms, searching for something. My hands.

His eyes broke away from mine as he pulled my hand out of the water, inspecting my injured skin. His face betrayed no emotion save for the slightest tightening of his mouth. Slowly, his thumb caressed my inner wrist, a feeling that was both soothing and stimulating. My heart was beating erratically again. Is he disappointed, knowing that at the end of the day, I am still a male prostitute? The mere thought of him disgusted at me nearly made me choke. I looked away, down at the milky water where our knees jutted above the surface, his legs around my own. A horrid feeling spread across my chest. It was not him. _I_ was the one disappointed at myself. Wrapped up in debts, countless other loans and my own college tuition...

_Let me go._

I wanted to say. And yet the next thing I knew, an unexpected softness had pressed onto my bruises followed by a hot, wet warmth. I shuddered, bit my lip as his mouth did more, sucking and nipping lightly. The little bursts of pain shook me but the gentleness that came after turned me into a melted mess. Soon his lips found my fingers, and he kissed them one by one. So gentle, like light rain. My breathing became shallow and I instinctively pressed my legs together. There was a whirl of emotions inside me. His gentleness led me to think that maybe I was special to him just as he was to me. I did not want to wake up from this dream.

The same was done to my other hand before he released them and settled his hands on my lap. My skin burned and my member responded without my permission. I closed my legs further and I swore I heard a low chuckle out of him. I flushed red and breathing evenly became difficult. Beneath the water his hands squeezed my thighs, pressing circles with his thumbs. I could only gasp as I held onto the edges of the tub, fighting to keep my voice. The silence became deeper with the abrupt sounds of the water sloshing as I halfheartedly struggled, my head tilting back a little more each time his fingers drew closer to my arousal, until finally my head lay across his shoulder, my face exposed to him without reservation. Looking up, I saw that his face was just as stoic as ever, but his eyes were slightly lidded and his mouth hung open, his hot breath soft on my forehead.

Without another word, a strong arm snaked around my chest and held me back by my shoulders as his other hand fisted my length, drawing a long gasp from my mouth. Colors burst in splashes behind my eyelids as the hand moved, teasing and maddeningly slow. My hips stuttered and I closed my legs. I could not take it. With him, I felt innocent. I have never been touched this way, so tenderly and full of care. It was too much. Any more and I was going to lose my mind.

"Spread your legs."

His chest rumbled against my back as he whispered in my ear. It hardly sounded threatening, and I obeyed. Resistance was not an option anymore. My body arched off him as I searched for air, the arm around me still imprisoning me to him as he sucked and pressed kisses on the spot below my ear. My knees shook. My breaths became short and fast. My voice could not be contained, even more so as he quickened his pace and increased the pressure. _Wait... Wait..._

I wanted to scream, afraid of the immense pleasure that held me captive as his hand tugged and twisted, wringing out the desire I have kept for so long. I did not mean to cry, but I felt so consumed that they spilled on their own, like two hot streams down my cheeks. The usual script of "fuck me", "yes" and "do it harder" did not come to mind. All I wanted was to call his name over and over again. But I was afraid that if I did, I would unknowingly tell him my true feelings. I did not want to scare him away. Instead, mumbles of "please" was all I could muster if I was not too busy biting my lip and holding my breath.

Then there it was. I could feel it dragging me towards the edge. Desperately my hand traced his arm and when I found his hand, laced my fingers through his. His other hand worked my weeping member, his muscles bulging from the effort to give me pleasure. I felt teeth against my neck as my hips bucked from keeping up. He growled as he tells me to cum for him, his dirty words enough to do it for me. With the last of my strength, I pulled our joined hands to my mouth and bit his skin hard, burying my moan into him as the knot in my core unravelled. Thick cum spurted from my tip through his fingers, mixing with the warm water between our legs. Breathless, I released my bite and allowed a few tired groans to escape my throat as he milked the last of my seed out of my flaccid member.

I leaned back against his body, feeling exhausted as hell, but very wrung out. I could not tell if I was satisfied or not, but the overwhelming feeling of anxiety chased me out of my orgasmic glow. What happens now? Will he leave me? Peppering kisses on his hand which remained entwined with mine, I gave him my gratitude for treating me so well. Words were not enough. To break the silence would be to desecrate this moment, and I held my tongue. Oh, if only I could hold onto this warmth. If only this man was mine and mine alone...

He let me dress myself first as he dried his hair with a towel which he playfully hung on my head after he was done using it. I could not help it, my chest felt swollen with my feelings that I had to somehow relieve the ache burrowing in my heart. I felt so pampered throughout the entire night, and him showing me a different side of himself just when I felt so wretched after everything that happened gave me the courage to ask one more thing from him. I was aware that the favor I was going to ask him was brought by my own selfishness, but I had decided that if he rejected me then, I would give up on my feelings for him. So, with the towel twisted between my fingers and my voice just above a whisper, I asked if he would let me hug him when I fell asleep.

_Please be there when I wake up in the morning._

In truth, this was what I wanted to say, but I chickened out and settled for a compromise. At least this way, if I wished hard enough, he might just read my mind and stay. It is too sad to have him disappear whenever I wake up. It is too cold, and it constantly reminds me of how different our worlds are. Just for a night, I wanted to be spoiled. He said nothing as he made his way to the bed. Lying down, he turned to me and patted the space right next to him. My heart melted. I bit my lip. I have fallen in love with a man I meet only on Tuesdays and Fridays, have dinner with knowing that we will be heading to a hotel right after, and that he will be gone before I wake up the next morning. I shook my head, not wanting to think as I crawled to where he lay waiting. Our gazes never seemed to want to leave each other. Before I could hesitate I threw myself to him and he caught me, his strong arms holding me firmly by my middle. Snuggled against the crook of his neck, I inhaled his familiar scent.

_This is not a dream._

I assured myself as I hugged him tight and closed my eyes when I felt him pull me closer to himself, and his voice repeating my words. "Not a dream", he said. Oh man, have I been talking aloud without realizing? Since when? And then he was patting a soft rhythm on my back, lulling me steadily to bittersweet dreams. My entirety purred with this kind and gentle attention, but in my head I was desperately trying to escape sleep. I did not want the night to end. Afraid of finding myself just as alone as always, my heart wouldn't allow me to let this moment pass by. I had to tell him.

"Mr. Han," I said with the smallest of voices. He did not offer any verbal acknowledgement but the hand on my back stopped and I knew he was listening. I licked my lips. "Please, would you be my lover?"

The air froze, or at least it felt like it. Even he did not seem to breathe. I was suddenly very afraid. I knew it, I should not have wanted more. I wanted to kick myself for being so naive as to dare hope that we could-

"You won't like it." He said, resuming the circles on my back. I held my breath, waiting for the rest of what he had to say, for an explanation or excuse. But the thing that struck me the most was that I was not rejected. He merely said that I would not like it. I clung to that thought as I listened to our off beat breathing. Without my knowing I had become so attached to this person. I did not know that loving someone could be so pervasive, that simply being apart could leave one so empty.

"Why?" I probed, a faint glimmer of hope stubbornly clinging onto my heart. That was when he pulled away from me and took hold of my wrists once again. For a long time he looked at my bruises, rubbing his thumbs over them every once in a while. I tried not to wince.

"It will be... too much for you."

I sat up, disbelief crowding my thoughts. Too much? I was a male prostitute and I just asked him to be my lover. Was he making excuses? Suddenly the spell he had cast over me was undone and my silence broke.

"You talk as if you are insufficient. As if you are flawed in some way." A strong, hot feeling surged in my chest. I recognized it right away. Frustration. Didn't he know he was so beautiful? His calm and his tenderness, his gentleness and mysterious ways. We barely talked and we never saw each other outside of my work, but he... he was just so different from the others. So special.

"I am flawed." He sighed, shifting to lie on his back. "Or so I would like to say. But I'm too perfect. I need to be, or I wouldn't amount to anything. I'll need validation, and my way of knowing so is cruel. Look at me."

I did and his gaze was so, so cold and yet scorching at the same time. My skin crawled and my heart beat faster. Confusion. Him talking to me like this about his personal matters brought him so much closer all the while warning me to keep my distance. I could hear it, the question he posed when he told me to face him. Will you risk becoming mine?

A beat passed and my breath hitched, caught in my throat. Something primal in me stirred and suddenly I was afraid. There was something really wrong with him, something dark. My inner voice screamed escape, telling me to back off while he was giving me the choice. _But_, I thought. _But I love him..._

"Can't make up your mind?"

I snapped out of my daze. He had opened his arms out to me, offering me a rare embrace which he hardly gave. Only for today, I promised myself as I lay back down beside him in surrender. "You're afraid. Good." He whispered, his voice slowly becoming heavy as his breaths huff softly against my forehead. He cradled my head towards his neck, hugging me closer. Silence followed for a long time and just when I thought he was finally asleep, he uttered the words that follow me up until now.

"I want you too. Don't misunderstand."

My chest hurt. This person, despite being hurt himself, was looking out for a thing as I was. Protecting _me_. In a way, he had just relayed his feelings about me. "Mr. Han, you're sick, aren't you?" I felt the hand on my back press a little tighter but the pressure was gone immediately.

"No. I'm perfect, remember?"

...

"Congrats on graduating, pea! I'm really proud of you. Skip work today so we can celebrate together, alright?" My dad's arm draped heavily on my shoulders as his other hand ruffled my hair. Sweet pea, little pea. My dad always treated me as if I was still in my elementary years. My face lit but I didn't hate it. I pinched his side to make him stop, then proceeded to hug his neck tight.

_Thanks, dad._

One thing that changed ever since I met him was the silence. I learned to speak my mind through my actions, only using speech for objective and practical things. "Pass the paper", "meeting at seven PM sharp", "I'd like a vanilla frappe". But feelings, both suppressed and embraced, I told them through my body. "You make me happy", "I missed you", "you are important to me". I wanted to tell him all these things more instead of just that one night. _I cannot love you without hurting you_. He told me this as he gently pushed me away. I could feel it through his embrace, his gentle kisses on my fingers, through his soft tugging of my hair.

After a while my dad left for work and I was left to have breakfast by myself. The TV blared on its own when I heard his name. Jumin Han, the most wanted young corporate heir to C&R, now off to secure a relationship with the elusive Oil Prince after just signing a contract with the Cultured Citizens' Association all the while opening up a new coffee shop chain. The talk show host went on and on listing his numerous successes while he sat there, his legs crossed and his eyes closed, his face an expressionless slate. I knew that stance. It meant he was bored out of his mind. And then the reporter asked him a question and he was forced to open his beautiful eyes, those pools of starless night a nostalgic, enticing trap.

"My _love_?" He asked, looking straight into the camera. A ghost of a smile on the corner of his mouth. "My beauty has white beautiful soft fur, clear blue eyes, and sharp pretty ears. Her name is-"

"Elizabeth the Third, and I have never seen any cat... no, any woman more beautiful than her." I finished, munching noisily on my toast. Man, he is still as weird as ever. God forbid the number of times I had to listen to him gush over Elly during dinners. Those were the only times he was not silent.

_But that is all in the past_, I thought to myself as I put away my breakfast things, buttoned up my polo and slipped on my graduation toga.

Mr. Han. No, Jumin.

Hang in there. The next player is coming soon.

Yes, I meant **you**.

**Author's Note:**

> It was love at first sight when I first saw Jumin in the intro chat in Day 0 where he was petting Elly as she ate. It was such a _wait, he's sweet towards cats_ moment for me, and I loved him even more during his call in Day 3 of Casual Story where he says "I... hope you never get ill."
> 
> I (kinda) feel bad writing this because I wanted to keep my crush towards this man innocent but sometimes the bitch is thirsty so what can I do? Haha


End file.
